


Relentless

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Blindfolds, Canon Villain, Forced Orgasm, Kidnapping, M/M, Moonridge Orgasm Anthology, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Rape, Restraints, Sentinel Senses, Sexual Conditioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is kidnapped by a shadowy organization and sexually conditioned into obedience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relentless

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2007 Moonridge Orgasm Anthology.

Blindfolded, ears plugged, nose and mouth deadened by an anesthetic spray of some kind -- the only sense they'd left him was touch and his brain clutches at it to fill the void. Some of it's painful -- the air-conditioned chill on his naked skin, the cold steel of the stirrups holding him open and vulnerable, the sharp bite of metal restraints against the raw skin of his wrists and ankles where he'd struggled at first, trying to use the unpleasant stimuli to distract from what's being done to him -- but the body has its own priorities, choosing pleasure over pain whenever it can, and he's passed the point of fighting not to respond some time back, pushing his traitorous cock up into the hot, wet, infuriatingly skillful mouth, desperate to reach the orgasm tauntingly dangled before him and snatched away time and time again.

The one thing Jim Ellison will not do is beg for it, though his mind is endlessly chanting, _please oh god please anything let me come please please anything…_ It's galling that he's pretty sure it can be inferred anyway from his strangled gasps. _...please damn you let me please..._

He wants to kill that smug fucker, rip his head off and jerk off on his still-twitching corpse. A jolt of pure bloodlust slams through him and for a moment he thinks it's going to be enough to tip him over, but the sensors must catch it because the lubed fingers up his ass still and the softly pebbled tongue that has been slowly, luxuriantly rubbing at just the right spot -- _oh god please_ \-- under his cock head slows down even more. Jim grinds his teeth together to hold back a frustrated sob as he feels the momentary build up recede until he's back to hovering at the exquisite edge of not-quite-enough.

There's the staccato buzz of a chuckle around his cock and then the asshole starts humming. _Oh god you fucker no no no..._

Even without his ears, he could probably identify the tune from the vibrations running through him but he doesn't bother since he has no doubt it was chosen to irritate the crap out of him. He ignores it the same way he ignores the body that occasionally presses against him and the hot breath that whispers across his face. He really doesn't want to think about who's been sucking him off and on the past couple of days, but what he can't ignore is how fucking good it feels.

 _...best fuck you best ever let me please please..._

He clings to the rage running through him, trying to remember he has to fight this, but his cock feels so swollen and hungry. He's tried and failed and he can't think clearly anymore but nothing's happening one single second before his assailant allows it. There's nothing he can do and with a sudden release of rigidly-held muscles -- he refuses to acknowledge the smugly approving pat on his thigh -- Jim gives in, mind going blank, and allows himself to just feel...

 _...so good yes ah yes good..._

 _...oh oh fuck yeah more..._

 _...no don't stop no no no you bastard..._

 _...oh oh yeah good that's good..._

 _...more..._

 _...right there right there..._

 _...ahhhh no no no fuck you..._

 _...please yes please yes yes again..._

Awareness slams back into him as a hand carefully threads through the sensor leads clustered around his genitalia to grip the base of his cock and begins to milk him in short, sharp jerks. _Yes oh god yes yes yes..._ His body recognizes this from before -- _finally!_ \-- and instantly responds with frantic attempts to thrust. Mouth and hands speed up, with the implicit promise that this time he won't be stopped.

Nerves all over his body are buzzing, tiny electrical shocks of anticipation. The intensity builds from the tip of his cock downward and along the root to deep inside where busy fingers are skillfully working him. He can't drag air into his heaving lungs fast enough and he doesn't care if he's making noises now because -- _almost c'mon c'mon you fucking bastard now now now..._

 _Yes!_

Jim hits the point of no return -- sudden fragmented image of dials spinning wildly as his eyes roll back in his head-- and white-hot orgasm blasts through him. He knows now how to push the threshold of pleasure until he hits the extreme edge of what he can endure and he claws at it, wills himself to hang on, his body shaking through the endless rhythmic clench/surge/bliss and again and again... Mindless, exquisite, perfect ecstasy that he never wants to end.

But it does end eventually, slipping away even as he struggles to hold it. The fall is cushioned by his assailant's coaxing attentions, turned into a long, slow slide from the heights down to a warm blanket of gentle bliss that cushions the shock and soothes him. He's suddenly, appallingly grateful for the kindness, despite knowing it's just another manipulation.

Jim lies there, limp and dazed, body humming with happy satiation as the mouth gives one last lingering suck and the hand carefully withdraws from his ass. He feels the clang of metal against metal -- a chair wheel banging against the exam table as it's pushed away -- then there's a busy swirling of air currents around his thighs, so he's not surprised when he feels warm splashes on his stomach. It takes him a minute to remember why that's wrong, but when he does, he wraps the rage around him like Kevlar. He's going to need it.

After a moment, the stirrups are lowered and he becomes aware of the blood flowing back into his legs. His right leg is briskly and efficiently massaged and he swallows a sigh of relief as muscles cramped from straining against the stirrups relax. The other leg is given the same treatment. Then he's left alone for a minute.

A straw is pressed against his lips. His mouth is so dry it hurts and he takes a sip, swirls the water around in his mouth, then takes as many long pulls at the straw as he can before it's taken away. A warm cloth wipes at his stomach. When it brushes against his cock, Jim startles at the burst of sensation. Of course, the bastard then lingers, teasing the cloth over his cock and balls before shoving his hand under Jim to wipe the sticky crevice between his cheeks. Jim clenches his jaw and endures it. At this point, having his ass wiped for him while he's restrained is routine, the casualness of it meant to emphasize he's only a lab rat here, no human dignity left. At least, there's no bedpan this time.

He feels the sudden body warmth along his right shoulder. Jim knows the man will simply stand there a while looking down at him, partly to assess Jim's mental state, partly to unnerve him. Jim spends the time thinking about fishing, the early morning sunlight sparkling off the water, the sound of Sandburg's cheerful chatter banished further upstream...

His pleasant daydream is interrupted when first his earplugs, then his blindfold is removed. The fluorescent lighting is too bright and he blinks painfully up into the grinning face. Brackett's skin is flushed and his eyes are hard and shiny, the pupils still dilated from sexual arousal.

"You continue to impress me, Jim. That was the best one yet -- two minutes, 23 seconds with a total of 94 contractions. And to think the average male gets a mere seventeen seconds. I feel so cheated." Brackett winks. "I can definitely see why Mr. Sandburg is so keen on the joys of sentinel research."

Jim can't help the involuntary narrowing of his eyes at the mention of Sandburg, but he refuses to take the bait.

Brackett studies him speculatively a moment before saying, "You don't need to worry. He's safely following the false lead I planted. We'll be long gone before he ever finds this place."

Jim keeps his face blank this time. Not the best of news, but he's not counting Sandburg out yet. Brackett may be cunning but he enjoys his own games too much and that makes him sloppy. Sandburg is smarter than him. Jim has to keep believing that.

"So, Jim..." Brackett lays a possessive hand on Jim's thigh and slides upward to cup Jim's groin. "What are the chances of a little reciprocation next time?" His thumb lightly brushes over the head of the still-sensitive cock and Jim hisses at the sensation. Brackett smiles. "Looks like they're pretty good, huh?"

Jim bares his teeth. "Try never, asshole."

Brackett keeps on smiling, eyes locked on Jim's, thumb continuing its slow back and forth. Jim's cock jerks and stretches. Vaguely, he wonders where the hell his refractory period went.

"Hmm..." Brackett's voice is smug. "I don't think 'never' is as far away as you seem to think, Jim. If I've got you on the edge and you don't get to come until you take care of me first, how long do you think it'll be before you're begging to suck me?"

Jim's not going to answer that. It's not going to get that far. Sandburg will find him. "Do your bosses know about your kinky little amusements, Brackett? No way they’d approve this. What happens to you when they find out?"

Brackett's hand never stops moving and Jim has to work hard not to be distracted from what he's saying. "I assure you all this is completely sanctioned. Well, maybe not the reciprocal blow job but all the rest of it. Everything's being monitored and recorded. Actually, you're very popular viewing. We have to pay special attention to the lab geeks when they exit the facilities to make sure they don't smuggle any film out. I'm sure they intend it for personal use only but people are greedy and it wouldn't do for any of your colleagues to stumble across it on the Internet."

Jim feels something inside shrivel at the thought of people watching him writhe and gasp under Brackett's touch. The sudden heat in Brackett's eyes tells him that Brackett knows it too. It infuriates him and makes him snarl, "You tell me how the hell this is research. What can this tell you besides you're a filthy, perverted rapist?"

Brackett purses his lips a moment and then says. "Well, I suppose it can't affect the results now. It has to do with using your senses at the highest levels. Your pet researcher calls it the 'zoning factor'. Very inconvenient, especially in the middle of a field operation. Fortunately, we've found a way to control them." He grins and waits for Jim to ask.

Field operation. Black ops. Wet work, maybe? This facility has state-of-the-art equipment and the building is full of personnel, none of whom blink when Jim is wheeled past them on the gurney. The language he's heard is mostly American English. CIA? Brackett back in the fold? At least, he hasn't been sold to another country. He can work with this. Jim blinks and realizes Brackett is getting impatient.

"Don't keep me in suspense. Control them how?"

"It turns out there's a little loophole in how your brain processes sensation. Your brain doesn't zone during sexual stimulation." Brackett laughs. "It doesn't want to miss anything and I don't blame it. But it gives us something we can use. So long as you're properly stimulated, you can use your other sentinel senses without the zone kicking in. Isn't that fascinating?"

Ah. That explained some of the odder tests earlier in the week, Jim realizes uneasily. "And how's that supposed to work? I'm going out in the field and you're going to suck my cock while I aim a rifle or eavesdrop on someone?"

"Kinky but unrealistic. We're looking at mechanical means right now. Electrodes in your brain got vetoed because we don't want to risk frying your valuable brains. The current plan is crude but we'll refine it as we go along. The lab geeks are working on it now. It's basically a harness with vibrating sleeve and butt plug and a radio controller so your handler --" Brackett lifts his hand to his chest and smirks. "-- can control the stimulation for the length of the operation. Once it's successfully concluded, you get your reward, you lucky dog."

Conditioning. That was the part of the picture he was missing. He was being conditioned to Brackett, taught to equate pleasing Brackett with intense sexual pleasure. Jim knows enough to know that that will eventually be effective. He'll become nothing more than a sentinel tool for Brackett to use on his superiors' orders.

He closes his eyes, dials down his senses. He'll shut Brackett out as long as he can. However long he can. Damn you, Sandburg, you and Simon get your heads out of your asses and come find me. Hurry, Sandburg. Please hurry.

 _...please please..._


End file.
